Maker Help Us All
by StellaSmooth
Summary: Alyssan Cousland and Alistair keep trudging foward 2 years after defeating the Archdemon, the daunting task of rebuilding the Fereldan Wardens looming heavily above them. Settling into the task may just be the next big adventure for them!
1. The Nightmare

_Hello all, just as a pre-warning I wanted to throw it out there that this is my first attempt at fanfic and I ask that you all bear with me. I'm trying my best to keep this moving at a reasonable pace. I want to thank everyone that has stopped by so far to give this a read!_

_Also, Bioware owns everthing...I just like to muck around with it!_

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"Maker's Breath!" Alistair cursed as he bolted upright and ran a shaky hand through his hair. His mind reeled in the darkened quarters but he was acutely aware of the smaller body next to him gasping as though it would never draw a proper breath again. He ran his hands over his face to rid it of the sweat beading there and to try violently scrubbing away what still lingered of the nightmare. It clung to him like the fine sheen of sweat that coated his limbs. He felt her writhing beside him and knew she too was trying to claw her way out of the dream that felt all too real for them both.

He turned to face her and found himself staring into Alyssan's bewildered eyes and beautiful face, both still swimming with the horror of the nightmare. His hands immediately found purchase in her disheveled locks and he dragged her roughly to his bare chest.

"Aly," he whispered, hugging her tightly to him in an attempt to soothe her mind as well as his own. "It's over, love. Please breathe."

She nearly sobbed but choked it back refusing to let it affect her like she had during those many nights during the blight at camp. She willed the tears to stay put and gathered her thoughts before speaking. "It's been two years, will they never stop? I thought this was supposed to get easier."

Alistair sighed as he stroked her hair. "I cannot answer honestly, as I truly don't know. What I do know is that it is supposed to get better. " It pained him to know that he did not have the answers to give her. Even though he had only been a Warden for six months before she joined the order, he felt that he should have asked more questions, been more attentive. Perhaps if he had, he would have the answers that she so desperately needed now.

Alyssan Cousland snorted in derision against his neck and he smiled knowing that she was steeling herself and bringing the fierce fighter that was as quick with her tongue as a well made blade to the forefront. This was yet another reason he loved her so deeply.

It had been a year since they had made the journey to Vigil's Keep in the Arling of Amaranthine to rebuild the Grey Wardens of Ferelden and two since the slaying of the Archdemon. Even after all of that time they still had the terrible dreams that came with having the taint coursing through their veins. He deemed that it was a small price to pay in comparison to what could have happened that night atop Fort Drakon. The dreams still came, not with the frequency or ferocity they did during the blight, but enough still to remind them of their true purpose as Wardens.

Alistair's hands drifted to her shoulders as he finally released her from his crushing embrace. She eyed him balefully, instantly missing the heat and comfort that came from being enveloped in his muscular arms. With a lopsided grin and the quirk of his perfect golden eyebrow he gestured to the double paned window across from them. "Looks like a few more hours until sunrise," he mused, "and I suddenly find that I am no longer interested in sleep."

Alyssan narrowed her emerald eyes. "You act as though you woke only because I was trashing about…you had the dream as well!" she accused, jabbing a calloused finger into his chest. "I'm sure it was just the same as mine, yet now you jest as though that isn't the case!"

His grin widened as he grabbed her small hand and brought it to his lips, brushing her knuckles with a kiss. "If your dream contained a disturbing lack of cheese then yes, my dear. The blatant absence of dairy products was just awful," he gasped in mock horror. She snatched her hand away from him long enough to smack him on the shoulder before he pushed her over and pinned her with his body in two precise movements.

"Do tell me that this is some sort of advanced Templar training you are attempting to instruct me in" she giggled, unable to hide the desire darkening her eyes.

"Of course. Work always comes before play." he growled before crushing her mocking lips with his heated kiss.


	2. From Antiva, With Love

_Ahhh! So exciting for me that so many have showed interest in my little creation so far! Thank you so much to all of the lurkers, reviewers and those that have added me or my story to favorites! It is much appreciated and I hope that I can continue to entertain!_

_As always, I am a slave to Bioware's awesomeness since it's their stuff that I'm twisting around my little fingers!_

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Alyssan stifled a groan as she woke. She could feel the early morning sun washing gently over her face from the window across the way, but kept her eyes tightly closed knowing that if she opened them the warm caress would turn into something more like an assault. She could tell that Alistair was no longer in bed and she cast her senses out into the room to determine if he was still in their shared quarters. She was almost disappointed by the empty yawn of space around her as her mental search came back empty handed.

She threw a lazy arm over her face and let a long sigh escape her lips. Her lethargy was going to have to come to an end shortly; there was much to be done. As she mulled over what she needed to do over the course of the day a slight smell of musty leather and sweat rolled across her senses. Someone was in the room. Calmly, still keeping with the act of being consumed by laziness though her battle senses were now screaming, she slowly draped the arm that wasn't over her face to the side of the bed. Hidden under the thick blankets it would appear as if she were only shifting to gain further comfort in her sleep. Her hand slowly closed on the hilt of the simple but balanced dagger she kept between the mattresses.

Just when she was about to make her move a familiar voice floated across the space of the room toward her. "Ah, mi bella…such a thoughtful greeting. But the cloak and dagger routine is supposed to be my domain, yes?"

Alyssan eyes shot open just in time to see Zevran Arainai's smirk as he settled onto the edge of the bed. Her mind reeled and she almost raced down the length of the bed to embrace him before she remembered her current robeless state. Instead she gathered more covers and slid to a sitting position against the headboard as she sputtered "Zev! When did yo…wait, how long have you been here?" Her eyes narrowed as the Antivan elf's grin grew wider.

"Long enough to see the enticing swell of your…" he began, but she cut him off immediately with a glare that said she was not above maiming his perfect countenance with the dagger she still gripped in her small but skillful hand. Remembering that he had a hand in her ruthless training as a rogue he let the comment die on his full lips. "There is enough time to discuss this at length at a later date, I think," he said with a dismissive wave of his long fingers, "for now, though I would greatly appreciate it if you did not, I shall allow you to make yourself presentable."

"You Antivan Lecher!" she laughed as she tossed a pillow at his face. "Out! Go find Alistair…I will be ready shortly."

Zevran stood and gave her a flourishing bow. "As you wish mi bella, though I suspect that he will not gain the same flush of excitement and will be far less pleasing to look upon." He smirked once again as he headed out the chamber door into the keep.

Once she was sure that he was gone she leapt from the bed and ran over to the armor stand in the corner. She quickly donned her leathers and grabbed Duncan's sword and dagger from the velvet lined case she kept on their desk. Sliding the sword carefully into its sheath and the dagger into her belt she then bounded to the basin near the door and splashed some water on her face. Her mind felt like it was being torn in a hundred directions at once. She had not seen Zevran since the night they killed the Archdemon and the last she had heard was that he returned to Antiva to settle his accounts with the Crows. Despite his battle prowess she had not expected to see him again. She immediately sensed that this meant some kind of trouble.

She slid out the door of her chambers and into the hallway closing the heavy door behind her. She cast out her mind in search of Alistair but the smell of food and the rumbling of her warden's hunger led her straight to the dining hall where the morning's fare was being prepared. She found Alistair with his eyes wide and mouth agape seated across from Zevran. She took a seat beside him and eyed the two companions before planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. "I see that you had no issue finding Alistair," she said to Zev with an amused twitch of her lips.

"One only has to follow the smell of food to find the Templar," he shot back with a grin, "when travelling with one of his appetite you do not soon forget."

"I…what…Andraste's flaming sword!" Alistair struggled, "Where in the Ma…WHY in the Maker?" he complained, covering his eyes with his hand.

Zevran snorted at his sputtering. "It would seem as though our good friend Alistair is not as pleased to see me as you were, mi bella."

Alyssan choked back a laugh as confusion and irritation began to color Alistair's cheeks. "Oh, great! What does he mean by that? You already knew he was here? You could have told me, you know." He groused.

She chuckled. "I only just found out myself, love. When I awoke to the smell of leather and Antivan brothels I could only assume…"

Alistair's hand slid from his face and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "You were in our quarters," he hissed at Zevran but then his face drained of color. He quickly turned to Alyssan. "But you were nak…" he began, but then as if something dawned on him for the first time a blush began to creep from his neck to his hairline. His hands immediately shot to his face again covering the wicked red that was setting his cheeks ablaze. "Oh, Maker…How long was he…" Alistair couldn't seem to finish the sentence as he was too mortified to form another coherent thought.

Seeming pleased with the reaction that he has gotten from the ex-templar Zev relented when he received a pleading look from Alyssan. "I assure you my good friend Alistair; I arrived at daybreak to find tu amor trying to figure out a way to add a few holes to my sublime frame. Do you not find it exceptionally…agreeable that your amante chooses to arm herself so?"

Alistair groaned, refusing to look at the elf but giving Alyssan a sideways glance. She was still grinning widely as she brushed her fingertips along his burning cheek. Feeling the need to get underway she dropped her hand to the table and picked up the conversation with Zevran.

"So, what brings you to Vigil's Keep my sly friend, I had last heard you had returned to Antiva." She said, sparing a glance to the recovering templar at her side. He straightened, more interested to hear why the former crow had returned to Ferelden than with his previous embarrassment.

Zevran's face turned momentarily serious as he answered. "I have…settled things with the Crows as it were. I do not think that I will have to worry about them again for some time. However, you should know that I have not returned from Antiva alone. There is another former Crow that assisted me and I thought that he might be of some interest to your order."

"Is that so," Alistair grumbled. "Since when do we trust the Antivan to pick who gets to become a Grey Warden? That just doesn't seem like a very good idea. One of them trying to turn me into a shish-kabob is enough, thank you very much."

Alyssan sighed. "There is no point in arguing, Alistair. The wardens are in no shape even after all this time to turn down at least looking at a possible recruit. You know this as well as I, love." She did not miss the roll of his amber eyes as she spoke to Zevran again. "So, where is this recruit Zev? I take it that he did not sneak past all of my guards to be found lurking in the keep somewhere?"

Zevran's eyebrow quirked as his usual sly look returned to his handsome features. "Of course not, mi bella. I thought that one uninvited guest would be quite enough to drag the ire from our friend Alistair. I left him in Amaranthine at the inn. I had hoped that you might accompany me back to the city to see him for yourself. That is an acceptable plan to the Commander, yes?"

Alyssan nodded. "We will ready the horses and set off for Amaranthine immediately, that is of course unless you do not believe it wise, my love?" she questioned.

Alistair sneered in reply but got up from the table. "I'll grab our packs. This should at least prove to be entertaining."

"Yes, and I must see to making sure that everything will run smoothly in our absence." Alyssan said, waving her friend to the door. "I will meet you outside shortly, Zev."

Within the hour the three companions set off for the City of Amaranthine where Alyssan hoped to find a suitable recruit to help bolster the numbers of her still weakened order. Despite Alistair's initial reluctance she could tell that he was also curious to see what kind of man Zevran would think to bring to them. It felt good to be outside the confines of the keep, and with the sun beaming down on them she thought to herself that this was going to be a good day.


	3. The Road to Amaranthine

_Before I begin I just wanted to send out my humble thanks to all those who have been reading thus far! I'm tickled that you're enjoying my random mutterings! Also, I'd like to send a special thank you to those that have subscribed to alerts and favorited—riversend, kira76, hetekos, RainLily13, RubyPele, wren137, Saga Svanhildr, Warrose, and loialoha! _

_Lastly, I'd like to thank Bioware for the content as it belongs to them!_

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The ride to the City of Amaranthine was taking a bit longer than the trio had expected. Forgetting the fact that he looked extremely uncomfortable while perched precariously on his steed, Alistair had an uncanny talent for finding himself on his hindquarters in the dirt. Alyssan gave him a rueful look as she stared down at him for the second time from the back of her horse, Greymane. His eyebrows were knit together in frustration as he gathered himself from the ground.

"Damn horse will be the end of me," he declared as he gingerly rubbed the latest bruise that was bound to spring up beneath his armor. "Give me a fortnight of walking…no, a bloody Archdemon…but do not put me on the back of that wicked beast!"

Zevran snickered, clearly amused by the ex-templar's inability to remain in the saddle. "There is always the option of lashing him to the caballo, mi bella…though considering the injuries he must already have I would suggest dragging him on a litter behind it."

Alyssan bit her bottom lip in a vain attempt to stop her laughter from bubbling forth. Her second's eyes had just narrowed on her when she felt an itchy sensation start at the bottom of her spine and begin marching like an army of ants to the base of her skull. Alistair sprang into action instantaneously, skillfully drawing Maric's sword and hefting Duncan's shield to his shoulder. She was already off her horse with weapons drawn and melting into the shadows as he hissed a word of warning to Zevran. "Darkspawn."

The Antivan leapt gracefully from the back his steed and he sent the animals bolting down the road with a sharp whistle. His brows furrowed and bow now drawn; he gave Alistair an inquiring glance. Though the elf said nothing he knew what he was being asked. He pushed his warden senses out into the hills surrounding them and quickly gathered the information they needed.

"At least nine and they're close," he said as the elf knocked an arrow. "There is definitely an emissary."

The former Crow only nodded in reply. He sent his senses out once again to pinpoint his fellow warden's location when the raiding band of darkspawn crested a small rise to their east. Curiously, they just stood there on the small hill instead of rushing immediately at the warden and his companion. It almost seemed to Alistair that the emissary was giving orders to the grunts. He nearly laughed aloud at such a ludicrous thought and began prepping his mind to employ his templar abilities. As if by some cue the grunts split into three groups and began hurrying down the hill in different directions. Alistair's mind flared with unease; this was not typical.

"They mean to surround us," he choked out in disbelief. Darkspawn were not organized, not without an Archdemon at their head. He knew it as well as any cold, hard fact but now it was being defied right before his eyes. "I can't believe it."

He rushed forward to the pair of genlocks that hurtled down the slight grade in his direction. Reaching them at the edge of the road, he caught the first with a hefty shield bash straight to its middle that threw the hissing creature to the ground. He hoped it would stay down long enough for him to finish off the other. Swiping around with the shield to deter the second, his arm shuddered as it absorbed the blow of the enemy sword with a clang. Seeing the opportunity he raised his sword and relieved the snarling genlock of the arm that was brandishing the crudely made blade. Pushing forward once more he ran it through without hesitation as it attempted to stumble away. He could hear the genlock behind him scrabbling to regain its feet and without so much as a look he turned and plunged his weapon through the foul creatures' neck, the tainted blood splattering onto his armor.

With a strong smell of ozone settling around them Alistair knew that the emissary was about to strike. He dropped to the ground and rolled in time to see a ball of lightning blowing up chunks of earth near the same place he had been standing moments ago. He had to disable the caster. Rolling to his feet he contemplated the best approach and also where Alyssan might be. He glanced to Zevran who was immerged in a battle of his own. There was one remaining hurlock on his side that was now within melee range of the elf.

Zevran dropped his bow to the ground while grabbing a single arrow from his quiver. As the hurlock lunged at him the assassin struck; planting the arrow deep in its eye socket. It bellowed and swiped its claw-like hands toward the elf that had already danced out of reach and was now armed with the daggers from his belt. As the creature stumbled blindly toward him he lashed out with a particularly nasty kick to its knees that threw it off balance. The damage now done, he spun the daggers deftly in his hands before planting them both into the hurlock's chest.

Alistair looked up at the emissary just in time to see a foul looking blue-white crackling ball formed between its gruesome palms. He pushed out with his mind causing the spell to quickly dissipate, to which the emissary screamed in rage. Alistair focused on draining the nasty caster of its mana when he noted that its milk-white eyes had gone wide. Closing the distance between them he hurtled up the small rise just in time to hear a war-cry.

"For the Grey Wardens!" Alyssan screamed as she pulled the dagger from its back and spun with her sword to rid the creature of its deplorable head. She was breathing raggedly and covered in tainted blood. When her eyes met Alistair's they were full of the same fire they had carried during the blight. It was as if they sought to blaze forth and char the world around them. He sighed with the relief that came every time he saw her still standing after each battle. He broke her gaze to search for the last three darkspawn to find their crumpled forms not far from where he stood. She had deftly dispatched them and he hadn't even noticed their fall. He closed the space between them just as the flame in her eyes seemed to weaken. She slumped into his embrace and sighed. "That went well," she whispered just as she lost consciousness.

Alistair's heart leapt to his throat as he felt her go limp in his arms. Quickly and gently he laid her on the ground, pushing the decapitated emissary's corpse hard enough that it partially rolled down the hill. His mind raced as his eyes roamed over her body searching for wounds. She was thickly splattered with the darkspawn's blackened blood and he was having trouble locating the injury.

"Zevran," he yelled, the torment clearly ringing through in his voice, "I need water…now!"

The elf bolted in the direction of the horses giving a sharp whistle as he ran. Alistair, now drawing frantic breaths brought his hand to his beloved's cheek. "Wake up, Alyssan," he demanded but his voice cracked in the sheer pain seeing her like this was bringing. "Please, wake up!"

_His mind wandered back to the night she landed the killing blow on the Archdemon. The pure white light that had blown them all off of their feet and rendered them unconscious had been unexpected. He awoke alone in an unfamiliar room but upon inspecting the surroundings he determined that it could only be some make-shift quarters in the palace. He tried to shake the cobwebs from his mind. What had happened? How had he gotten here? Were the others alright? Where was Alyssan…oh Maker, what had happened to her? _

_His body screamed in protest as he flung himself toward the door. Wrenching it open and throwing himself out of it he ran headlong into Bann Teagan Guerrin who braced his arms and shook him. _

"_Alistair! No, you shouldn't be up yet. A healer hasn't made a full assessment of your condition." Teagan protested grabbing the distraught man's face and making him look into his eyes._

_Alistair growled. "Get out of my way, Teagan. Where is Alyssan? I need to see her now!"_

_Teagan kept a tight grip on the ex-templar's shoulders. He shook him lightly trying to jolt him back to reality though he knew what he said next would have to be phrased very carefully. The thought that he could see the Bann's struggle with what to say next turned his stomach sour. Something had gone wrong…horribly wrong. Morrigan's disgusting ritual had been for naught. The thought of Alyssan's death defeated him instantly. He went still in the Bann's grasp as the revelation struck him._

_He saw the change in Alistair's eyes immediately, saw the fear and hope die away from them. Knowing what the young Theirin was thinking he immediately began to explain. "No, Alistair…she is alive though she is badly wounded. Wynne and another mage named Petra still work on her endlessly. Wynne assures me that the Warden will be fine given some time to recover."_

_Unable to stop them, tears began to stream down his cheeks. Aly was alive, thank the Maker she was alive. Feeling unable to move on his own the Bann of Rainesfere guided him down the hall and into another room buzzing with activity. Though Wynne and Petra stood on either side of her he could still see her small frame heaped with blankets from the waist down. Her upper body was riddled with injuries, her beautiful face battered and bruised but she still drew breath. He could see the rise and fall of her chest as the shimmering blue light from their healing soothed over her skin. He wept even harder now as the Bann gave his shoulder a light squeeze. Teagan led him to a chair positioned at the foot of the bed and settled him into it. _

"_Thank you, Teagan." He managed to choke out over a sob._

_The Bann gave him a concerned but warm smile. "As I said, she is alive. Everything is going to be alright."_

Alistair pulled himself out of the memory when he heard Zevran's light steps rushing toward him. The elf thrust a waterskin in his direction and he was just about to begin washing away some of the tainted blood so he could get a better look at her when Zevran said in a low voice "Mi bella?"

His eyes shot to her face to see her eyes flutter open. She let out a low groan as she tried to focus. Alistair could not contain his joy and swooped down to plant a kiss on her forehead. She choked out a laugh that seemed to cause her pain. "Swooping is bad." She said hoarsely to her second who erupted in laughter in his relief.

"Are you alright? How badly are you hurt?" He asked, concern growing in his eyes once more.

She batted away his hands and attempted to sit up cringing in pain as she tried and failed. "Help a damsel in distress to her feet?" she queried in a miserable voice. Alistair helped her to stand as gently as he could. Once she was balanced he slipped a light hand around her waist to make sure she'd stay that way.

She sighed heavily. "Just a few scrapes and bruises…and it's highly likely there is a broken rib or two. I think walking the rest of the way to Amaranthine would hurt a lot less than riding."

Taking Greymane's reins in hand she led the horse behind her as they sought to finish the journey that they started that morning. After they reached the city she would find some proper healing magic and perhaps rest for the night before she met Zevran's mystery recruit. There was one last thing that was itching in her brain as she and her comrades continued down the road…the emissary.

"Was it just me, or did that emissary issue orders to his party?" she asked hesitantly, knowing that if it sounded crazy to her it would sound even nuttier to them. "I could have sworn I saw him talking to them like he was giving commands…or perhaps I'm just an Archdemon short of a blight."

Alistair nodded. "I definitely saw it. I thought I was losing my mind…not that Morrigan ever thought I had much of one to lose. It's definitely worth investigating once we get a handle on your injuries and the recruit."

"In the time that I have been battling these creatures in your company I cannot say that I have seen anything similar. I do believe that I would have noticed such a thing." Zevran concurred.

They fell into companionable silence for the rest of the journey thinking of what it could possibly mean. Talking darkspawn…thinking darkspawn. The group mind working without the lure of the Archdemon's voice. The thought made Alyssan shiver in apprehension. Within a few hours the gates of the city came into view and they were all relieved that the journey was now nearing its end.


	4. An Old Friend

_What can I say, I have been a bit distracted for the last few days and had a bit of an issue starting this next chapter. I would blame it on laziness and the fact that I haven't been feeling well, but think it's been more of the former than the latter. _

_Before I get started I wanted to send out my humble thanks to Zeeji, suomivison, Eva Galana, nillan88, and cluaran for adding alerts or favorites! I very much appreciate everyone's interest in my aimless meanderings and the idea that you guys are reading is what is pushing me forward!_

_As always, a HUGE thank you to Bioware for allowing me to poke about with their creation! You are the Kings and Queens of AWESOME and I am your humble servant!_

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A hearty fire crackled in the stone hearth casting it's warmth and glow across the medium-sized chamber. Alyssan felt very tranquil as she stared into the dancing flames from her position on the large bed. Despite the uncomfortable ache in her torso she probably could have let her eyes slide closed and drifted into a well deserved sleep if Alistair hadn't been acting like an overprotective mother hen. She sighed irritably as he paced and wrung his hands at the foot of the hand-carved frame in the room he had rented for them more than an hour ago. His amber gaze flicked to her every few seconds and she could practically feel the worry and tension filling the space between them until she thought that she would choke on it.

"_Enough!" She thought to herself. "He is acting like I'm delivering a child instead of nursing a broken bone! This is why you don't get hurt," she chastised, "because he temporarily loses his damn mind."_

"Would you knock it off?" she said as her emerald eyes focused on his pacing. "Your anxiety won't summon a mage to my bedside in a magical puff of shiny glitter, you know." She declared with a grimace.

The former templar frowned and rubbed his day worth of stubble in frustration as he shook his head but made no reply. He walked over to the fireplace and braced his hands on the solid mantle as he took a deep breath in the attempt to settle his jittery stomach. He knew that her injuries were not life threatening, but he could hardly bear the thought of her being in pain.

"_Leave it to her to be smug when I'm worried," he thought. "It's just like her to not be concerned about her own injury though if the situation were reversed she would be acting the same as me." He mused as he shook his head tiredly._

He had just given the door another nasty glower when he heard the light knock fall upon it.

"Finally!" he exclaimed, as he strode quickly to the wooden portal and wrenched it open. The surprise didn't even have a chance to register on his face as the elderly mage quickly brushed past the stunned warden and made a bee-line to Alyssan side.

Wynne laid a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder as she peered down at her. "What in the Maker have you done to yourself this time, young lady," she said with a concerned smile. "Letting darkspawn beat up on you is hardly acceptable." Alyssan chuckled at the woman as the mage's quick eyes took in the blotchy bloom on her left side.

"Apparently a good pommel strike to the middle is a new play in the darkspawn handbook." She mused quietly as the blue healing light spread across her nearly bare upper half. She instantly felt the discomfort subsiding as Wynne's spell went to work soothing her bruising and knitting the fractured ribs. She knew that there would still be twinges of pain as magical healing wasn't a cure-all, but any relief the mage could offer was welcomed. She looked at Alistair, who had come over and taken a seat by her right side and almost laughed at the perplexed expression she found on his handsome face. She took his large hand into hers and gave it an affectionate squeeze. He worried entirely too much.

"I don't understand," he stammered casting his eyes to the elderly woman still working on his beloved, "How are you here in Amaranthine, Wynne?" He knew that she had returned to assist First Enchanter Irving at the tower after things settled down in the wake of the Battle of Denerim.

"I've just returned from a conference that I was appointed to speak at on behalf of the First Enchanter." She said absently as she observed her handiwork on the warden commander. Her gaze found his as she quirked her silvery eyebrow. "Are you not happy to see me again, Alistair?" she queried with a smirk.

"I…no, I mean yes, of course I'm happy to see you!" he stuttered in bewilderment. "It's just that when I sent Zevran out to find a healer I…"

"Wasn't expecting such qualified assistance?" she interrupted him with a laugh. "I will be honest, I was a bit shocked to be approached by the assassin myself especially since he managed to ask for my help without so much as a lewd look in his eye." She admitted as she handed Alyssan a light tunic that was draped across the back of the chair near the bed.

Alyssan carefully sat up donned the dark blue tunic bearing the crest of the warden commander, relieved that it slipped over her small frame without pain. "Good as new," she breathed to her companions. "Thank you, my dear friend."

Wynne nodded in return as she pulled the chair to the bedside and settled into it. "So, what brings the Warden Commander and her second to the jewel of Amaranthine?" she questioned with an affectionate gaze on the two.

"Business as usual," Alyssan laughed. "We are here to meet a possible recruit that Zevran brought from Antiva City."

"Always duty with you, my lady." The elderly mage chuckled. "But I think that your duty can wait until morning. Why not indulge an old lady and join her for supper?"

"Absolutely, we've got a load of catching up to do." Alyssan said with a nod as she slid from the bed and pushed her bare feet into her boots.

Alistair groaned in delight. "Fantastic, I'm starving!" he announced to the laughter of the two women as they exited the room.

After eating, joking, and reminiscing for hours Wynne finally took her leave for the night. She would begin her journey back to the tower the following morning after a brief stop in Denerim. They embraced their friend and bid her a fair journey before retiring to the rented room to get some much needed rest. Wynne had warned her to take it easy on her newly knitted ribs before she left the tavern and now that she was snuggled against a gently snoring Alistair she smiled at the knowing motherly look the old mage had given her. The fire had been reduced to glowing embers before she finally allowed her eyes to close, comfortable and warm in her beloved's embrace.


	5. The Recruit

_Well, I figure that I've done all of the stalling I can stand and it's time to finally meet Zev's mystery companion. Thank you all for waiting patiently to meet the former crow…I wanted to make sure that I had everything together before I introduced the assassin into the story. Ok, I'm lying…I was actually just terrified that it wouldn't come out as brilliant as it sounded in my mind. LOL! Anyhow, I'm over it—and it looks like it's time to shake things up!_

_As always, thank you Bioware for allowing me to muck about with your creation! If it weren't for your awesomeness I'd probably be writing fanfic for a game that isn't nearly as phenomenal as yours!_

* * *

The warden commander leaned back in her chair and let out a contented sigh. Having eaten her way through a copious amount of breakfast she felt full to the brim though her counterpart was still chomping away across from her. Alistair paused in his shoveling and grinned pointing to the few pieces of extra crispy bacon left on her plate.

"You going to eat that?" he queried with a hopeful look.

She chuckled and pushed the plate toward him. "Have at it, love," she said with a smirk.

He plucked the leftovers off her plate with a gleam of appreciation in his eyes. "No need to let it go to waste," he said happily as he began eating again.

"_I don't think there's a larder in the Arling that's safe this morning," she thought as she watched him devour everything left on his plate. "I hate the thought of what lunchtime brings."_

She was in the middle of making a subtle gesture meant to tell him to wipe his face when Zevran appeared in the chair beside her. He smirked at her second who was making a big show of scrubbing his entire face with the sleeve of his tunic.

"Andraste's knicker weasels," she sighed as she covered her face with her hand and shook her head. "Alright, now that breakfast and entertainment is over…"

"Yes, and what a show it was," Zev said with a quirk of his lips. "I daresay he could set up a stand in Antiva City and make a small fortune."

Alistair caught the well hidden barb in the assassins reply and shot him a sour look. "Heeeeeeey!" He complained but let it go when Alyssan rolled her eyes.

"I suppose it's down to business then," she said to Zevran as she stood up from the table, "when do we get to meet this mystery guest of yours?"

"Assuming that our good friend Alistair is quite done destroying the food supply of this place, mi bella, I shall take you to him straight away." He said, his eyes still dancing in amusement.

Alistair huffed as he came around the table to join them but said nothing in return. They headed back up the stairs as Zevran led them to what would hopefully become a new grey warden.

The room was only a few doors down from the one they had rented the previous night though it was a bit bigger. There was a small couch and a couple of comfortable looking chairs arranged near the fireplace. Zevran's candidate stood by the hearth with his hands braced on the mantle staring into the fire. From what she could tell from his back he was well toned and about Alistair's height. As the door clicked shut behind them he turned to face them and Alyssan sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyes immediately shot to Zevran who had settled into the chair nearest to the fire. His face had gone serious and he gave her a slight nod. She walked forward and gripped the back of the couch as she sized up the man standing before them. His skin was tan not only from his many years in Antiva but also from his parentage. He had hair like jet and deep chocolate brown eyes framed by dark lashes that seemed a bit too long for a human male. He moved with the feline grace that came from spending many years under the tutelage of the Crows as he took the few steps to the other chair and seated himself. He tilted his head and rubbed his neatly trimmed beard as she watched him.

Alistair could sense her slight discomfort from where he was standing still near the door. He quickly strode to her side and placed a reassuring hand on her lower back. He cast his gaze to the recruit and his hand dropped as quickly as he had put it there. The resemblance was itching at the back of his mind, but he refused it. There was no possible way.

He looked at Alyssan and saw the waves of confusion and emotions warring on her beautiful face and came to the conclusion that she had seen it too. Now he also had a white-knuckled grip on the back of the couch. Alyssan closed her eyes and took a deep breath while shaking her head. Alistair immediately did an about face and headed straight for the door. "No." he simply stated as he let the wooden portal slam behind him.

She started to go after him, but Zevran had already stood and began walking in the direction Alistair had bolted. "Don't worry, mi bella…I will see to him."

At a loss for words still, she finally let go of the couch and took the seat across from him. Her nerves felt frayed and her thoughts were jumbled but she had come here for a purpose. A Cousland always does her duty first. She took another deep breath before speaking.

"What is your name?" she managed, but just barely.

He sat completely motionless and silent for what seemed like a lifetime to her before his rich voice rumbled out. "Camlin," he stated, "former member of the Antivan Crows at your service, my lady."

His speech had a slight antivan lilt but he was also educated. She was still breathing erratically and her mind was still screaming for answers but she just couldn't seem to get the questions to flow from her lips. She cradled her face in her hands, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Why was this so hard? She heard the click of the door again. "Maker's mercy," she breathed, "I apologize, it's just that you…"

He cut her off, glancing at the newly returned Zevran and Alistair. "I look just like the former Warden Commander of Ferelden." He stated without emotion. She heard Alistair make a strangled noise in the back of his throat and gave him a sympathetic look.

Her eyes shot back to him instantly as she sat ramrod straight in the chair. "Yes, you're the spitting image of Duncan…did you know him?" She inwardly cursed herself as the words spilled out in a rush, she sounded like a child.

He began tracing the stitching on the legs of his leathers as he answered. "No, I never met him…but was told by my mother that he was my sire."

She could hear Alistair sliding down the door and coming to rest on the floor. Her eyes sought him out to find his face buried in his knees and his arms wrapped around his legs like he was trying to hold himself together. Her heart ached for him, but she had more questions for Camlin and she needed them answered. If only she could choke them out.

Camlin saw the Warden Commander's struggle with emotion. He stood and took his earlier position at the fire before he started.

"My mother was a most beautiful Antivan lady and told me the story of the Warden many times," he began much to Alyssan's surprise, "She had been a widow for over a year when she met this Duncan and was completely enraptured. From what she told me he initially put her off several times yet she still pursued him relentlessly. Eventually, he gave in to her and they spent a little over a month in each other's company before he returned to Ferelden and his duties as a Grey Warden."

He took a deep breath and looked at Alyssan over his shoulder before continuing.

"She found out that she was with child not much later. Being an Antivan woman of worth she was strong and did not send word to him…she appreciated his position and left him ignorant so that he might carry on his duty without worry. On the day she went into labor she delivered twins…a boy and a girl. Me and my sister, Paryeah. She raised us to the best of her ability, and all was well until our sixth year. That is when Paryeah began to show signs of magic and was whisked away by the Chantry. They never told us where she was being taken; only that she was now a danger because she was a mage." He spat the word chantry with as much venom as he could muster.

Alyssan cringed at the thought of losing family at such a tender age. The loss of a family member never left a person…that she could attest to without question. She sympathized with the man as he continued on with the tale.

"Mother was damaged after that. Soon she began to tell me of my father more often and the stories became a regular part of my life until I was in my eighth year. She passed on and I was left alone and scared. I did not want to go to the Chantry and before long I was taken in by the Crows. Zevran has told me that you are they types to even give well trained assassins pause, which is one of the reasons why I travelled with him in search of your order. The other is to honor my mother's soul by pledging service to the Wardens of Ferelden, to follow the footsteps of the father I only knew though my mother's love and tales."

Alyssan was taken aback that she was staring at Duncan's progeny. The thought of making Camlin go through the joining made her nervous…what would her former commander's thoughts be on this?

Alistair cleared his throat. She was surprised to see him standing quite near her and his amber eyes were studying the young man intently. "So, you have made the decision then," he asked in a crisp tone, "you're ready to become a Warden?"

"It is the path that is laid out before me." Camlin stated simply as he turned to look at her second.

"Then let's have it done," Alistair said in a hardened voice that she wasn't used to hearing, "We will make arrangements and head back to Vigil's Keep in short order. Ready yourself." With that he turned on his heel and headed straight back out of the door.

Alyssan gave Zevran a worried look as she followed him. The elf shrugged in reply as she let the door shut behind her and hurried to catch up to her beloved. When she walked into their rented room he was already stuffing what few possessions he brought with him into his pack. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder though she was sure that he would shrug away from it. Surprisingly, he did just the opposite, dropping the pack and pulling her into his embrace. She gasped as he backed her into a wall and began kissing her with a desperation she hadn't felt since during the blight. He did not release his hold on her until they were both shaking and out of breath. When he pulled back she could see the pain threatening to burst forth from his amber gaze.

She caressed his cheek with her long fingers. "Are you alright, Alistair?"

He closed his eyes, pushing his face into her warm palm. "I'm sorry, I acted rashly…it's just…Maker, it's like looking at a ghost!"

She draped her arms across his shoulders and ran her fingers through his hair. She placed a kiss on his neck breathing in his wonderful woodsy scent. "I know, love," she murmured against his skin, "we will figure this out together." She breathed gently, feeling the goose bumps litter his flesh. He shuddered against her reveling at the feel of her lips on his collarbone as her hands slid beneath his tunic and pushed it over his head.

A slight blush crept across his handsome features as he stared into her emerald eyes. "But I…I told them that we…we were getting ready to leave!" He stammered.

Alyssan gave him a wicked little grin before pulling him toward the bed by the waistband of his trousers. "They can wait," she purred, "what's another hour or two?"

_She sure knows how to get a man's mind back on track he thought._ He gave a hearty chuckle before kissing her passionately. His world would fall apart without this woman, of that he was certain.


	6. The Joining

_Hello, All! I'm lagging behind a bit again…that whole sick and lazy thing is still chipping away at my motivation and I apologize! I'm trying my best to get it back into gear! I'd like to send a big thank you to all my reviewers, lurkers and the ones that set alerts or favorites this week including: taz3SGSN, LadyReeana, Auranara and Grannaah! You guys rock!_

_Also, please check out Ladyamesindy and Violet Theirin's stuff if you haven't already. Those two ladies always make me *squee* in fangirl delight each time they update their amazing stories! So, go and gobble up their awesomeness and review, review, review!_

_As always, Thank You Bioware for letting me play on your playground without beating me up! You built it; I just sort of hang upside down on the monkey bars and wave my hands about a lot!_

* * *

Things had been set into motion quickly when the group arrived back at Vigil's Keep. Alyssan had already made arrangements with the seneschal to prepare for Camlin's impending joining and had sent the young man off with another warden named Dorian to get the lay of the land. Zevran had been shown to the guest quarters and Alistair had trudged off somewhere deep in thought. Initially she had wanted to follow him and ask him if he was alright, but the former templar obviously needed some time to sort out his thoughts. He would come to her when he was ready to have a discussion about what was bothering him.

She now sat in her study, her only company being the sparse furnishings of the large room and the only thing competing with her thoughts was the steady scratch of her quill on the crisp white paper of the leather-bound book before her. Though the fire glowed warmly across the room she still felt frozen through as she wrote.

**9:33/DA**

_It seems as though Zevran was already quite aware of whom he was taking us to meet in Amaranthine. I don't blame him for not telling me, but at the same time I believe that it probably could have saved us a great deal of shock. Camlin seems like a good candidate for the joining. He's well-trained, seems sturdy and intelligent. He is very quiet…seems turned inward like he's constantly evaluating his own thoughts. I must admit though, if we did not need new wardens to replace what was lost at Ostagar I am not so sure that I would poison him with the taint. This is Duncan's son! It feels so wrong to make him into a grey warden when his own father had despised the order when he was first conscripted. Oh, I wish he were here to give me the guidance I need in this situation…a nudge in the right direction or a bit of advice, anything to make me feel like I'm not his son's judge and jury. Either way I am sentencing him to a horrible death when that foul blood passes his lips or a shortened lifespan that will be taken away by the creatures that supplied that very blood to begin with. The guilt of killing this man, either now or in delay is almost too much to bear. Duncan, I have failed you._

She let out a low sob as she dropped the quill and pushed the book out of the way. Slumping in the soft leather chair she pressed her face against the smooth wood of the desk and covered her head with her arms letting the tears burst forth as she warred with herself internally. She cried for Duncan, for Camlin and for all of the other lives she had so effectively ended. Yes, it had been their choice to join her, she had never been forced to use the Right of Conscription, but she had still signed each recruits death warrant. She cried until there wasn't a single tear left to trickle onto the desk and there wasn't a sob left to wrack her body.

* * *

They stood side by side, her hand clasped in his as they watched the joining in silence. She felt Alistair's posture stiffen as Varel asked her to say the Warden's Oath. Feeling as guilty as she had earlier that evening she couldn't even manage to look at the old seneschal. Keeping her eyes on the cracks in the stone floor she finally managed to speak.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten…" she choked on the last words, the lump in her throat stopping them before they passed her lips. Alistair could see the emotions playing across her features; she didn't want to see this any more than he did. However, it was done now. Duncan's child or not, there was no turning back.

"And that one day, we shall join you." Alistair finished gravely, giving her hand a firm squeeze. He locked his jaw and frowned focusing his eyes straight ahead as Varel took the cup off of the table by his side. Alyssan sighed miserably as her eyes slid closed and a single tear slipped down the curve of her cheek as the seneschal delivered the death sentence.

"You have been called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good. From this day forward, Camlin, you are a Grey Warden." Varel handed the joining chalice to the young man with a slight nod and stepped back as Duncan's son drank deeply of the dank fluid it contained. He reached out and took the cup from the young man and retreated back even further. They all held their breath as they waited for what would come next.

Camlin's handsome face contorted as his hands shot to his head gripping his skull as if he were trying to hold it together. He heaved as the thick foul liquid threatened to make an escape back up his throat. His body burned with an internal fire that seemed to lick through bone and muscle and he writhed as it turned his insides to charred cinders. Gasping for air and clawing at his hair his eyes rolled back into his head just before he toppled to the floor, arms and legs askew like some twisted marionette.

Varel made haste to the young man's side, quickly applying his fingers to his neck in search of a pulse. His breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded wildly in his ears but he could feel it…the faint fluttering. His eyes sought Alyssan whose expression was nothing short of pure terror. He had never seen her like this at a joining before, she was usually so composed. When their eyes met, he stood and gave her an affirmative nod.

"He lives, Commander. You have chosen well, congratulations."

The breath she had been holding suddenly whooshed from her lungs and she found herself immediately pulled into Alistair's embrace. With her face pressed into his chest she mumbled "Thank the Maker."

* * *

Camlin awoke some hours later in the quarters he has been assigned to earlier that day. His head was pounding and judging by the taste in his mouth he'd apparently gone outside and licked the floor of the stables before being dumped into his bed. He ran his hands roughly over his face and let out a groan as he sat up.

"Ah, sleeping beauty finally decides to rejoin the world of the living!" Dorian chuckled from his seat in front of the hearth. "I was beginning to wonder if Varel had misjudged, and that the heartbeat he felt was actually a death rattle." He placed the enormous tome he was reading on the table beside the chair and walked over to the corner of the room.

Camlin had his elbow resting on his knee, hand still covering half of his face as he watched the red-headed mage through one still groggy eye. He snorted, wincing as the sound caused a fresh wave of pain in his head. "Dead would probably hurt less," he stated quietly enough to not exacerbate the migraine, "and it sure as hell wouldn't make me wonder if I had tried to nibble on a mabari that had been sprayed by a skunk."

Dorian laughed as he walked over and handed the younger man a cup. The assassin eyed the contents and shot the mage a questioning look. "If I were you I wouldn't sip it…nor would I smell it. It's one of those things that you chug and try to forget," Dorian answered with a smirk, "fortunately it will also stop that dwarf in your skull that's banging about with his smithy hammer. As for the dung like taste in your mouth…well, it might overpower that at least."

Camlin grimaced at him and drank the potion down in one gulp that was followed by an exaggerated shudder. He was pretty sure that if the darkspawn blood hadn't killed him that the concoction that the mage had just convinced him to swallow down would. "Maker," he managed with a gag as he handed the cup back to Dorian, "that was disgusting. It kind of reminded me of a particular dwarven brew."

"Probably the deep mushroom," Dorian said with a nod as he settled back into his chair and picked the tome back up, "it's pretty pungent."

The pain in his head was rapidly subsiding when there was a light rap on the door. "Enter," Dorian said loud enough so the visitor could hear before turning his attention back to his book. The door creaked open to reveal Alistair, who gave a nod to the mage in thanks and walked over to the bed Camlin was sitting on. He leaned casually on the bedpost and shoved his hands in his pockets before speaking.

"I guess congratulations are in order," Alistair said with a smirk, "not only for surviving the joining and becoming a part of the order, but also for surviving any doctoring that Dorian attempted to administer."

All three men chuckled. "Yeah, I think that was the worst part of the whole experience," the young man said with a smirk as he cut his eyes to the mage who was still buried in his book, "but thank you."

Alistair's voice dropped a bit lower. "Look, I'm sorry for how I acted yesterday. It's just that your…father… was very important to me. His death is something that I still don't think I've gotten over completely and probably never will. He was more than just a mentor and friend…he was like my father too." He cleared his throat and wondered why he was telling the assassin this, he had only come to apologize, not tell the kid that he claimed the father that he never got to know. "Anyway, I apologize for being rude."

Camlin's dark eyes met with the templar's amber and he nodded in acceptance. "It's alright. Really. Zev told me that that reaction was quite possible from both you and the warden commander. So, I had expected it, honestly."

"I understand, but that doesn't make it right," Alistair said with a long sigh. "Oh, and before I forget…This belongs to you now." The former templar drew his hand from his pocket and a leather cord dangled from his fingertips. A pendant hung from the cord, a small crystal vial with a silver filigree top that was filled with a dark black-red liquid. He placed the necklace into Camlin's outstretched hand before hastily shoving his own back into his pocket.

Camlin inspected the vial closely then looked back to Alistair with a frown. "Darkspawn blood?" he queried, rolling the pendant between his forefinger and thumb.

The former templar nodded. "We call it the Warden's Oath…we all have them. It's a little reminder of our duty as Grey Wardens…and of our brothers and sisters that didn't make it this far. He watched as the young man slipped the cord over his head and tucked the pendant into his tunic with a thoughtful look on his face. In that moment a strange feeling washed over him, he suddenly understood why Duncan had always chosen to shield him when all he wanted to do was fight and be one of the boys…he suddenly had that same desire to protect Camlin from all that was to come, whatever that was.

Alistair grinned and casually walked back toward the door. He was halfway out into the hallway before he turned back around and smirked at the two wardens. "If I were you guys, I'd get some rest. I know a Warden Commander who has quite a day planned for tomorrow." He heard them both groan as he pulled the door closed and chuckled to himself. Yes, tomorrow morning was going to be interesting indeed.


	7. Home is Where the Heart Is

_As always I would like to thank my reviewers, lurkers and those of you that set alerts or favorites! I really do appreciate your interest in my creation and I hope that I can keep it entertaining for you all! I would also like to apologize for the fairly short chapter...i'm being lazy because I'm currently working on two more projects. OVERLOAD!_

_If you're looking for some great writers you should definitely go check out VioletTheirin and Ladyamesindy. The Tangled Web We Weave contains some primo Bannhammer action that will knock your socks off and The Sands of Time will absolutely blow you away! Please go read and review them, you won't regret it, I promise!_

_Bioware owns me…err…most of the stuff in this story! Thank you a million times over for letting me play in your world!_

* * *

Early the next morning as Camlin and Dorian trudged toward the dining hall the quiet calm of the keep was shattered by a bellow.

"What in the soddin' hell is that nug-humpin' elf doin' here," the voice yelled, echoing off the stone walls. They both froze in the hallway just before they reached the door, the new warden shooting the other a confused look. Dorian visibly cringed and rolled his eyes, but with a shake of his head he motioned for Camlin to keep moving.

They rounded the corner to see a blond mage standing quite near a slightly wobbly fire-bearded dwarf. The mage was biting his lip to suppress the laughter he struggled to keep at bay as he peered at the stout little man who was standing on the bench that slid up to the long table. The dwarf stabbed a meaty finger in the direction of the Antivan elf as if pointing would make him magically disappear. "Damn elf."

The blond mage smirked. "So, you like elves do you?"

The stocky dwarf swayed on the bench, but miraculously regained his balance before turning on the mage and shaking his fist at him. "Draw your sword and say that again, pretty boy," he raged as the mage continued to smirk at him with a quirked eyebrow, "Oh, that's right…you manskirt-wearing freaks don't carry those do ya! Soddin' nancy boy! Go…play with your stick, Sparklefingers!"

The dwarf seemed particularly pleased with the last bit as he laughed loudly while wiggling his short digits in the other man's face. His countenance was a picture of triumph but his victory was short lived as he toppled off of the bench and landed flat of his back on the dusty stone floor. Zevran and the mage laughed heartily at the dwarf as he groaned. "Thunderhumper," he cursed as he tried to pick himself up off the floor.

Dorian covered his eyes with his hand and let out a long sigh. "Well then, the stout fellow with the big mouth is Oghren, the mage he's heckling is Anders. I would advise staying as far away from the dwarf as possible unless you want to get drunk off of his fumes."

"Yeah, the only thing worse than having to deal with Dorian's attempts at playing healer is catching a good whiff of Oghren before breakfast," Alistair chimed in from behind them, "speaking of which…"

Alyssan grinned and gave Camlin a good natured thump on the shoulder as she and her second passed them and took a seat at Zevran's side. A few more wardens trickled in and crowded at the table as the morning's fare was being served. Even Oghren, who had finally managed to get up off the floor with some assistance from Anders had plopped down on the bench.

The plate had barely hit the table before Camlin was steadily shoving the overly hot food into his mouth. He felt like he had starved himself for a week straight. He stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth when he heard one laugh being covered by a lame attempt at a cough and a quiet yet high pitched tittering from the commander. As he glanced around the table he noticed that everyone was looking down at their plates and either blatantly smirking or trying not to laugh. Bewildered, he looked at Alyssan with wide eyes and shrugged his shoulders as if to say "What?"

The entire table erupted into laughter, save one very confused Camlin. Irritated that he seemed to be the butt of some new-guy joke he finally asked "what's so funny?" The commander had collapsed onto Alistair's shoulder and tears glistened in her eyes as she managed to choke out something that sounded kind of close to Nathaniel.

At the sound of his name, Nathaniel Howe straighten up at the end of the table and tried to give the young man a concerned look, though he almost lost his composure when he saw that his fork was still hovering between his plate and face, frozen in place and accompanied by a seriously perplexed look. Nate's steel colored eyes still glinted with humor as he chuckled. "It's not going anywhere," he told him jerking his chin towards his plate, "fully cooked…no intention of escape."

Camlin looked back at his half empty plate, noticed his fork was still stationed between it and his mouth and shot another crazy look at the commander. She was sitting up straight again and grinning at him widely. Keeping his eyes on her he sat the fork down carefully. "I guess your new roommate didn't clue you into certain things last night," she said, leaning forward so she could wave an admonishing finger at Dorian, "some mentor you are!"

Dorian's pointed ears turned pink all the way to their tips, as he shot Camlin an apologetic grin. "Sorry, Cam..." he said in a truly apologetic tone, "one of the things that changes about you after you take the joining is that you gain an extremely overzealous appetite. Every time you eat it feels like you haven't touched anything all day and at times, especially for new wardens, we tend to lose our…table manners." He gave Camlin a meaningful look as he brushed at his own face with the tip of his index finger.

Camlin's naturally tanned skin darkened slightly as he grabbed up his napkin and began violently scrubbing at his face causing yet another outburst of laughter from the table. After the laughter had died down they all settled into good natured chatter while finishing up their morning meal. Camlin learned that Nathaniel, Anders and Oghren took their joining soon after the commanders arrival at Vigil's Keep, that Rogi and Branwynn Harrad were a brother and sister team recruited from Orzammar seven months before, and that Dorian and Nalaura had requested to join the order from the Tower of Magi only three months ago.

He was amazed at how seamlessly all of the different personalities seemed to fit together, even the newest of the group seemed comfortable in their new home. There was a definite spirit of kinship in this place and he noticed that even Zev, though he was not a member of the order, seemed completely accepted here. This was so different from the cramped apartment space he had been stuffed into in Antiva. _Yes, he thought, this would be a fine place to call home._

* * *

After breakfast was finished Dorian had taken him to Wade's shop to look at new armor. As soon as the shopkeeper's eyes raked over the old antivan leathers he began clicking his tongue in disapproval. "No, no no. THAT will never do. No style, no flair…" the man rambled as he rummaged through a nearby crate, "does no one take pride in their creations anymore? Don't they understand the ART?"

Camlin cut his eyes to his companion and raised a silent inquiry. Dorian gave his head a quick shake as if to imply "Don't ask." Both of them nearly jumped out of their skin when Wade suddenly let out a shriek and started throwing various pieces of a black scaled armor toward Harren who would catch them and place them on the counter as if this were an everyday occurrence. Harren had a deep frown etched on his face as he motioned for Camlin to come look at the leathers that were now neatly lined up. He had to admit, the man had excellent taste. They were some of the finest leathers that Camlin had ever laid eyes on, but he also knew that he'd never be able to afford anything even close to the quality of the garments that lay before him.

The black scales glistened in the morning sun and formed beautiful patterns across the chest and legs. The thick leather of the shoulder guards, wrist guards, knee pads, and elbow guards had been inlayed with an intricate design that just begged to be seen but was tasteful and didn't detract from the appearance of the armor set as a whole. He appraised each piece separately as Wade watched with a gleam of approval in his eye.

"You see, Harren," he said as he motioned to Camlin, "THIS is a man who appreciates craftsmanship. He knows the quality of fine drake scale when he lays eyes on it!"

"Oh yes, Master Wade," Harren replied with a roll of his eyes, "a definite connoisseur of fine leather products…that cost a considerable amount."

Camlin took a step back from the counter though his eyes still roamed over the piece covetously. "He is right, Wade. Such a work would be far beyond what someone like me could afford."

Harren smirked and started to move the leathers off the counter but stopped dead and frowned when Wade yanked the jerkin from his hands. "Nonsense," the man shrieked, "this is not an item meant for a box…it is to be worn in all its glory! You will take this and wear it as it should be worn; the warden commander has covered all your costs here. Now go…GO! Can't you see I have work to do?"

The man had gathered the leathers and matching boots and thrust them into Camlin's arms before rushing him and Dorian out of the shop area. Dorian chuckled as he observed the confused look on the young man's face. "You'd better go put that on before Wade flies into a tizzy, trust me, you don't want that."

Camlin smirked at the mage. "You mean, that wasn't a tizzy?" The look on his friend's face said that it wasn't even close. He sighed and returned to the keep to try on his newest prized possession.


	8. To Be Alone

_Sorry for the delay on getting chapters out to you guys! I've been out of town for the holiday and yesterday...well, Witch Hunt, you know. XD I want to thank everyone that has been sticking with the story even though it's taking me forever to write at this point! Special thanks to Karu0792, Auranara, CCBug, and rhiannaskye for setting alerts!_

_As always, thank you bioware for creating such a wonderful story! (and for letting us poke around with it to our little hearts content!_

* * *

Alistair drummed his fingers on the smooth wood of the desk he leaned against as he waited for Alyssan to return from the afternoon training session she had called. Generally he would have at least made an appearance at such an event, but she had insisted that he spend the allotted time with the Senechel. Apparently she assumed that he needed to be brought up to date on all of the boring ins and outs of running the keep. She had given him "the look" when he protested, which in his experience was never something that you played around with unless you happened to like getting mauled by an overly protective mabari.

He shuddered at the thought as he left his leaning position and walked over to the fireplace to attend to the flame. He was so wrapped up in stoking the embers that he didn't seem to notice the silent shadow move in close behind him.

Alyssan had been in the room for at least ten minutes watching her beloved from the shadows as he fidgeted about then finally busied himself with the task of tending to the fire. He was blissfully unaware as she crept up behind him...she was going to scare the daylights out of the poor man. _Tsk, tsk my love...maybe we should have gotten you out to that training session after all. Someone is getting rusty. _

Just as she was about to reach out and touch him he whirled around, catching her up in his arms and pinning her to the wall by the fireplace. She let out a squeak of surprise as her eyes met his whiskey colored depths and she registered the sly smirk on his face.

"But how...?" she started in disbelief, eyes narrowing as she searched his handsome face for the answer. _Dammit, I've been duped!_

His reply came in the form of a deep rumbling chuckle in his chest as he pressed closer to her. "You gave yourself away before I even made it to the fireplace," he replied smoothly as his lips gravitated forward to find hers, giving her a sound kiss.

His large calloused hands drifted up her leather clad back and across her shoulders to the exposed creamy white skin of her neck. She breathed out a contented sigh and let her eyes slide closed as his thumb caressed the sensitive area just below her ear and shuddered when the soft press of his lips and the warm tickle of his breath followed.

"Am I to be tortured for my failure," she queried breathlessly in the wake of his attentions.

"I believe I have a suitable plan for your punishment in place," he breathed roughly into her ear as he scooped her up and carried her to their bed.

* * *

Alyssan stretched lazily under the covers as she rolled toward Alistair. She was already warm but never passed up a chance to benefit from the waves of heat that always seemed to roll off of his muscled body. She was slightly surprised when she rolled into his chest, he was already propped up on his side and gave a light chuckle as he draped his arm over her to pull her up against him.

"So, how did your training session go this afternoon," he asked, reaching out to brush a strand of her dark hair from her face. The way she leaned into his hand like a cat made him smile even as she reached up and took his large hand into hers.

"Well, Camlin is a very skilled rogue, as was to be expected," she replied, threading her fingers through his, "he quickly bested both Oghren and Nathaniel. He will probably need more experience with the mages, as Nalaura had him locked down before he could even use stealth to his advantage. Not that it was exactly fair, she is not a target...she is the arrow." His eyebrows raised in surprise as soon as she mentioned pitting the newest of the order against the mage.

"I don't think unfair is the word that I would have used," he said with a wide grin, "I think Nalaura actually means 'I shall turn you into a rogue-sicle' in Dalish. You are a wicked woman!" He mentally shuddered at the thought of his first training session with the elven mage. He had underestimated her skill during their first duel and was nearly frozen solid before he even remembered he had templar abilities. Her elemental magic was nothing that any sane person would evoke, but her demure attitude and appearance seemed to effectively hide that fact from the masses. She was like a secret weapon, and even as small and unassuming as she was the thought that at any given moment she could destroy everything around her was enough to give him pause at the strangest of times.

Alyssan smirked at the thoughtful look on his handsome face as she slid out of the bed and headed over to the dresser to pick out a light tunic and some soft leather britches. She slipped the items on before speaking.

"Normally I wouldn't have put a new recruit up against her, but I wanted to get a good feel for his fighting style," she explained as came to sit on the edge of the bed, "plus Nalaura can't keep her nose buried in a book, she needs to keep a fighting edge as well."

He gave a nod of agreement as he slipped out of bed and donned a pair of comfortable looking trousers. A small smile played on her lips as she watched him, but her thoughts on why they needed to keep that edge quickly dissolved it.

"After that strange attack on the way to Amaranthine I want us to be ready for anything," she continued, her brow creasing, "This morning I sent word to Leliana, I think that she would be a great help in assessing the threat from these seemingly evolved darkspawn."

She saw the goosebumps race across his bare chest and arms at the mention of the odd attack that occurred only a few short days before. He quickly pulled his tunic over his head and turned his amber gaze on her as he sat down beside her.

"Agreed," he said with another short nod, "It will be wise to have another set of experienced eyes and hands involved in this. Maybe you should ask Zevran to stay on for a bit as well."

Her eyes widened slightly at his suggestion but she quickly recovered and put on a neutral face. Alistair had always considered Zev more of an acquaintance than an actual friend. Though he generally didn't let his worry show when it came to their duty as grey wardens, this was a sign that he felt the situation was dire indeed.

She raised an eyebrow as she peered at his now set jaw. "Are you sure?"

He nodded stiffly once more and leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. "I really think it's for the best. He goes out of his way to annoy me yes, but his experience and skill will be a great boon."

"Then I shall let him know of our request at dinner tonight," she said as she started to stand.

His hand immediately snaked out and pulled her back onto the edge of the bed. "Actually," he said with a slightly lopsided grin, "I thought that we'd take our evening meal here. I arranged for it to be brought to our quarters earlier."

She gave him a surprised look and emitted a girly giggle. "Are you trying to keep my prisoner in my own keep, Alistair Theirin?"

He grinned and smoothed his hand over her dark locks. "If not for duty I'd keep you prisoner for the next 27 years or so, but I can only keep the Arl of Amaranthine distracted for so long...tonight will have to do." he said jokingly as he leaned in to kiss her once again.


	9. Stories In the Keep

_It has been a very long time since I updated this story and for that I am sincerely sorry! I got so wrapped up with writing for Let It All Burn that I totally treated my first ever fanfic like a red-headed stepchild. It wasn't my intention of course, but I think you understand. Anyhow, I was happy to see how easily I dropped back into this story. I do love it and I'm glad to be updating it. There is still so much more to go!_

_This chapter is all about getting to know the characters. Kind of a cop out, I know, considering that everyone reading probably knows every last detail, but I felt like I needed another fluffy feel-good chapter before I jumped into the thick of things. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Hopefully I will be able to juggle all three stories a little better now!_

_A personal thank you to **VioletTheirin**, my unofficial beta! Many thanks and much love for cheering me on when I need it most. Also to my **Erynnar**, I would be lost without you guys! I'd also like to thank **Ladyamesindy** for allowing me to reference her story **The Sands of Time** in a round about kind of way. Much appreciated, Madame!_

* * *

_As always, everything belongs to King Bioware. All hail the King!_

* * *

Alyssan grinned at the Antivan as Alistair tripped over his words. She had convinced him to ask Zevran to stay on at the keep telling him that it would seem more important if the invitation came from him. He had agreed grudgingly and judging by the amused twinkle in the elf's eyes it was working just the way she thought it would.

"My dear Alistair, I am only surprised that you did not succumb to my charms sooner! Of course I will stay...perhaps I can even convince you to finally get that tattoo massage we once talked about." Zevran said to the now blushing templar.

"Don't press your luck...you're not coming anywhere near me with anything pointy or smelling like rosewater, assassin." Alistair huffed.

"Such a shame, I had very high hopes for my extended stay here in the keep. Alas, you dash my dreams once again!"

Zevran's feigned look of heartbreak was so good that Alyssan was unable to hold back any longer. She burst out laughing as her second's face and neck turned a dark scarlet. Alistair gave her a dirty look and stalked out of the common area. She would have went after him, but the look of triumph on the assassin's face had her laughing even harder.

"Ah my beautiful warden, you know just how to get me going, no?" He said with a sly grin as he took her elbow and led her to a chair. She collapsed into it wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"You know, you're going to have to cut him a little slack, Zev," She said breathlessly, "It's been quite some time since he's had to contend with your playful ribbing."

He smirked as he stroked his chin, the playful spark in his eyes still alight. "But of course, my warden. I am your man, I will not let you down. Unless of course he sets himself up for it."

She giggled. "He will always set himself up for it."

"This I know, dear lady, this I know." The sly elf replied with a chuckle of his own.

"I'm glad that you decided to stay Zev," she said in a more serious tone, "We could definitely use someone with your experience and talents while we figure this out. I sent word to Leliana this morning. Hopefully, she will join us here as well."

The elf's golden eyebrow quirked as he cut his eyes toward the Warden. "Pulling the minx from your brother's attentions so quickly? What a shame. I imagine he will be unhappy to see our wily bard leave."

Nothing escaped his keen eye apparently, even if he was in another country. Leliana and Fergus had hit it off during Anora's coronation and her brother had initially hired the smooth bard to look into some rumors he had heard for him while he attended to the rebuilding of Highever Castle. Over time their friendship had grown into mutual affection. She was just happy to see Fergus smile again and to have Leli around to talk to when she could make the trip to Highever.

"You've been gone all of this time, how did you know about that?"

He chuckled. "My dear warden, a good assassin always has his sources and never reveals them."

* * *

"Here," Dorian said handing the rogue a small stone container, "This salve should help with the frost burn. Don't apply too much though...it stings to the Black City and back if you do."

Camlin grimaced at the young mage. "I think you just enjoy using me as your personal test subject."

"That might be true, most of the wardens go to Anders when they need something fixed. You don't have to use it but I would wager that in the next few hours you will be praising my skill."

Camlin grunted in reply and began applying the ointment in a thin layer. At least this concoction didn't smell as badly as the last.

"Don't let Nalaura get you down. Even the Commander has hiccups while training with her. I've even seen Alistair frozen solid a few times and he's a templar!" Dorian exclaimed as the plopped down on the edge of his bed. "She's a brilliant mage."

The rogues eyebrow quirked with interest at the mention of the elven woman. "What's her story?" He didn't miss the mages grin at question.

"Nalaura came from the circle tower, just like me. We were childhood friends. She came to the alienage when I was five. Her father was a city elf that had gone to live with the Dalish but when her mother passed away he brought her back to Denerim with him. We were great friends and I was devastated when they took her away to Kinloch Hold. It was like losing a sister. As luck would have it though, I followed her within the year." The elf said, his eyes looking far away like he was reliving the tale.

"What made you want to become Grey Wardens?" The rogue asked.

"There was an incident at the tower not long after the tragedy at Ostagar..." The mage started, but stopped when Camlin stiffened at the mention of the battle. He quickly stood and took a few steps toward the assassin, but he waved him off.

"No, really...it's fine. I...I didn't know my father. I've just heard that he was a great man. I only hope that I can live up to his legend." He said quietly as he cut his dark eyes toward the elf. "Please, continue your tale."

Dorian nodded with a frown but walked back to the bed and sat down again. "Events were set into motion that caused many mages to become abominations and demons roamed our halls unchecked while blood magic charmed the Templars. The Warden Commander's party was driven to the tower to seek aid, what they found was chaos. They came in and cleared the place and stopped the mage that was responsible for the uprising. To see them come in, swords flashing was quite a sight to behold. Nalaura and I were among the mages picked to aid the warden against the darkspawn. It was after the archdemon was defeated that Nalaura and I made a pact to..." The elf stopped in mid sentence and raised an eyebrow at the rogue.

Camlin nodded as he listened, but found that his mind kept conjuring images of her strange violet eyes. Maker...she was as beautiful as she was deadly. He was so wrapped up in it that he hadn't realized that Dorian had stopped telling the story. The mage was just sitting there looking at him expectantly so he just nodded some more.

"I see." He filled in lamely as he watched the elf's smile widen. "Wait, what?"

Dorian snickered. "Daydreaming about getting your arse frozen again by a certain female mage?"

"I errr...no, of course not!" Came the reply.

"Mmmhmmm...that's what they all say. It's the eyes...it's always her eyes that do you in." The mage said with a smug smile. "Not the first time I've seen this, you know. Sucker."

Camlin groaned and fell back onto the mattress covering his face with his hands.

"I should warn you...she is not the docile kitten she seems. Get on her bad side and even the Maker won't be able to help you."

* * *

"And then I said forging the moaning statue, bucking the forbidden horse, donning the velvet hat...you should've seen the look on 'ol chantry-boy's face!"

The templar's cheeks were getting redder by the second as the mage and dwarf laughed like madmen.

"Maker's breath," he mumbled as he turned up his tankard and gulped down the contents, "Do we really have to talk about this, Oghren?"

"Course not, piketwirler...we can talk about Sparklefingers' manskirt instead!"

Anders was completely unruffled by Oghren's constant prodding. Alistair was beginning to wonder what his secret was and if there was a way to employ it himself.

"It isn't a manskirt you foul smelling oaf...it's a robe," the mage said with a smirk. "I suppose you don't know why mages wear robes?" He took a long drink from his mug, eyes sparkling with mirth as he watched the dwarf attempt to puzzle it out.

"Because they like to look like nancy-boys?"

"Oh, not at all...it's more of a convenience thing, you see." He said to the dwarf his smirk turning into a conspiratorial grin.

"I'm listening..."

"Well, you know how strict things are in the circle, right? Well of course you do...well the robes make quick trysts in the corner easy. No laces or buttons...you're just...well...you're done before the templar's catch on!" He said cutting his eyes toward Alistair.

The templar looked like he was trying to stare a hole through the floor, his cheeks still blushing. He looked up long enough to shove his mug in the dwarf's direction for a refill.

Oghren's eyes widened at the information the mage had just divulged. "By the tits of my ancestors!Really?"

He answered with a nod. "Of course, ask anyone!"

Alistair groaned. "Alright, next subject."

"What kind of name is Anders anyway? Sounds fruity." The dwarf asked while refilling their tankards from the barrel behind him.

"What kind of name is Oghren?" The mage retorted quickly, taking his mug back from the dwarf.

"A sodding good one if you ask me!"

Anders shrugged. "It's not my name." He replied quietly staring into the contents of the cup.

Alistair's eyes snapped up from the floor to the blond man. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Anders grinned. "I mean it's not my name. It was a nickname given to me when I came to the circle because I was from the Anderfels."

The mage was getting strange looks from both. "What's in a name?" he said with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Some people spend their entire life running from theirs." His brown eyes fell on the templar as the dwarf guffawed.

"Sparklefingers has a point, piketwirler." Came the reply from the door. The three men turned to see Alyssan leaning against the doorframe with a sly grin. "Perhaps he was raised by a pack of devout Andrastian dogs that could fly as well."

"Some of my fondest memories," Anders piped up, "were of being a naked child on all fours howling at a statue of Andraste. Ahh...The good old days."

Alistair groaned again. "You are all in rare form tonight. I believe you talking about being naked is my cue to leave." He said as he got up from his chair and walked out of the door his beloved was leaned against.

Anders waited until he was out of the door. "We really need to toughen him up a bit. If the darkspawn tell him a dirty joke he'll die of embarrassment."

The commander grinned and winked at the remaining wardens. "Try not to overdo it, we've still got training tomorrow and you're both up to duel Nalaura. I doubt a hangover will help your reflexes."

Both wardens let out a string of curses as she turned and walked out of the door and she laughed aloud as she heard Oghren yell "Asschabs!"

She was thankful her little family was getting along, they would need that solidarity in the coming days.


End file.
